4/10/15

Carson-isms

Children, in my opinion, are the best comedians out there. Their humor is honest and innocent, untainted by the crude jokes and innuendos that so strongly influence our culture.

There are a few bloggers I follow who regularly post about the funny things their children say or do. Some of the stories literally have me crying from laughter, they are so hilarious. But even before blogs existed, my mom was documenting these moments to pass on to me and my siblings ... Like the time my dad scolded me for being naughty by using my full name. Without hesitation, I retorted, "My name is not Sarah LeAnn Weaver, Daddy LeAnn Weaver." And when I found out that I was going to be a big sister, that there was a baby in my mom's belly, I was quick to let everyone know there were cookies in mine.

I am so thankful my mom made an effort to record those moments, and I want to do the same for my children. While Carson isn't speaking yet, (at least not in a language I comprehend) he does come up with things that have Herm and I both laughing until our sides ache. He is a child full of mischief and humor, and I know that there will be many moments I will want to remember.

So, this starts a new blog series about the darndest things kids say, and for now, I'll call it "Carson-isms".

The other day I was working in the kitchen, preparing supper. Herm had just arrived home from work and Carson was trailing him through the house, copying his every move. As Herm walked through the kitchen, heading for the dining room table, he gave me a little 'love slap' on the butt. Without missing a beat, Carson reached up, slapped my butt, and continued on his way to the table too, just like daddy.

A few days later, we were enjoying a slow evening at home, and decided to watch a movie. Herm had gotten up from his usual spot on our reclining sofa to adjust a few settings or grab the remotes. Carson quickly scooted off of my lap and sat in Herm's spot, feet propped up, just like Herm's, but not even close to reaching the reclining footrest, snickering, because he knew his daddy would probably sit on him or at the least tickle him until he moved.

I am also realizing how often I must yell at Rambo, our dog. You see, he is almost 4 years old, but he still acts just like a puppy -- jumping up on me, chewing through shoes or toys left on the deck unattended, 'watering' my basil plant and other herbs, and digging in my flower beds. I've realized that the tone I use with him is harsh and raised, because now, whenever Carson is talking to Rambo, he, too, uses the same strong tone, yelling "Bambo!" even when Rambo is being mellow and well-behaved.

0
comments:

Post a Comment

Hi, I'm Sarah!

I am a wife + mom, an adventurer, believer, and occasional writer. Thanks for stopping by!

INSTAGRAM

Just so you know, this blog contains affiliate links, meaning that if you click on a link or make a purchase through the link, I might make a commission from that purchase. Thank you for supporting my blog!